The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1887-04-06
Selected Storm.
Uncle Jedediah.

her pretty, shabby little feet to and fro |
in perplexed fashion.
Josephine and Matilda-those were |
the real names of these brown
faced, sturdy lassies, who were trying |
hard to battle in the hard uncompro-
missing world. Old Mr.. Metz was dead;
the Metz farm had passed into other
hands and all the distant relatives had
made up their minds that Phney and
Tilda were really no business of theirs.
There was only one pound in the
slender purse which belonged to their
Joint firm, and something, they felt,
must be done. And so their thoughts
reverted to an ancient granduncle, one
Jedediah Jackson, who had gone to
Harperville and there vegetated in a
dim old iewelry shop, where he mended
watches, replated whiteware and re-
paired damaged spectacles for all the
old gentlemen and ladies in the neigh
borhood.
To Uncle Jedediah they went. He
viewed them with lack-lustre eyes,
with magnifying glass in one hand
and a chamois leather in the other.
"Eh?" said he, my niece Mary's
daughters? 1t seems to me that do
remember something about her dying
and there being a lawsuit about the
farm. Father gone, too, eh? Well,
well. this is world of changes"
" If you could find something for us
to do, Uncle Jedediah," family began
Phiney.
"There's always something for peo
pie to do in this world. At least that's
my experience. Take off your bon
nets, girls. You are welcome to
home here, such as it isl he said
Uncle Jedediah was very kind in an
odd, absent-minded way, to his grand
nieces. He obtained place as a shop
girl for Phiney and kept Tilda at home
as housekeeper and general factotum-
and the fresh. rosy country girl lost
never shade of bloom in the quaint
city home.
Two leafy trees whispered over the
bow-window where hung the watches
and eyeglasses, and just opposite the
door a singular depression in the pave
ment held the light July rains long af-
ter they had dried away from the other
places.
"Uncle Jedediah, why don't you
And she looked despairingly at the
Illllt SuOC SpldSuCl Will NCl NnlSl ohC
had unguardedly placed in the treach-
erous pool.
Nv dear, have, but the pavement
settles again It's the site of an old
well that used to be here long before
the houses were built" answered the
old man.
Phinney looked up and down the
quiet, elm-shaded street. Was it pos
sible that farmhouse well once bub-
bled up here, that cool plantain leaves
carpeted the ground, and that thirsty
children came here to drink?
1T can't be healthy" said Tilda.
at amt unhealthy that l ever
found out, said Uncle Jedediah, search
ing among drawer full of tiny screws
for some desired variety of spiral.
The next morning was Sunday. All
the simple household slept an hour or
so later on this day of rest, as general
thing, so that the sun was shining
through the shutter cracks of the little
shop when Phiney came to call her
uncle to breakfast. But to her sur
prise the faded moreen lounge upon
which he usually slept was empty; he
sat in an armchair near the Pickering
gaslight-which shone so yellow and
murky in contrast with the golden
morning beams - bending over his
work.
Z" Uncle Jedediah! didn't you know
that it was Sunday?" cried Phiney, in
dismay.
But Uncle Jedediah did not answer
her. He never spoke a word more in
this world. He was quite dead.
eighty odd years old. What can
you expect? People are not born i'm
mortal nowadays. And such a nice
little business he had. Dear, dear!
there wasn't man near could repair a
watch as he could" said the neighbors
The place, the property and all were
left to windfall, for Uncle Jedediah had
always been an honest, Woodworking
man.
"What are we to do?" said Tida.
ave can't carry on the business of
repairing jewelry," said Phiney.
Old Major Deeply suggested that the
place be sold. Alderman Doublechin
intimated that the city might perhaps
pay fair price for the place as a site
for a hospital. Mr.. Chippendale Of
fered 81 900 for the right to transform
it into dry goods emporium.
But while the girls were considering
these various offers a strange thing
came to pass. Matilda came down to
breakfast one morning with troubled
face.
"Phiney, l have had such dreadful
dream" said she.
"Oh, Tilda, dear, so have II" ex-
claimed Josephine.
"Uncle Jededah!" gasped Tilda.
g Yes, Uncle Jedediah. Looking at
me as pale as death and trying to tell
me something, only no sound issued
from his lips" said Phiney.
"Uncle Jedediah with little rusty
old pickaXe, trying to dig up the paving
stones over the old WE'LL" said Tilda.
"What do you suppose it means,
Tilda?" asked her sister.
"Oh, dear, 1 don't know" cried Tilda
wringing her hands, " but i shall not
rest quietly until we have the old well
opened"
Major Deeply laughed scornfully.
Alderman Doublechin intimated that
he had no patience with superstition
Mr. Chippendale shifted and wished
piously that the dear young ladies
might have an opportunity to talk with